


The Artists' Aesthetic

by pharmtechgirl71



Category: Gossip (2000), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl is admired and respected, Daryl is an assistant in the art department, He also runs the campus gallery, He wants Travis to be successful, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6426712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pharmtechgirl71/pseuds/pharmtechgirl71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl runs the student gallery on campus and takes an interest in Travis' work, and in Travis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to my loyal readers. Those who read, comment and leave kudos for every little piece of crap I send out to the universe. You know who you are and I love every one of you. Leave me a comment, let me know what you think.

The Artist’ Aesthetic

 

Daryl walked into his house and threw his keys on the table. Kicking his shoes off, he grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and flopped onto the couch. Flipping through the stations, he found an old Clint Eastwood movie, High Plains Drifter. God, he had seen this one a million times with his brother, but he still watched it every time it was on. It made him miss Merle, a lot. When Daryl decided to stay in New England after college, Merle had taken it pretty hard; even stopped talking to him for a few months. Eventually, his brother realized that Daryl had made a life for himself; he had friends and a job, and didn't need Merle to protect or take care of him anymore. In the ten years since graduation, Daryl had gone home to Georgia quite a few times to see his brother, and Merle had come up north to see him, and enjoyed every minute of it.

 

Daryl had been working at the University as an assistant in the Art Department since the beginning of the Fall semester while still managing the gallery on campus that exhibited works done by students; he was the one who made the final decision of whose works would be exhibited. He was well acquainted with his students before he ever started assisting, because he had worked with them personally since they had joined the Art Department helping them perfect their talents. Daryl even had his own paintings and sculptures exhibited at a popular gallery in town and had sold a few to an art critic from New York. He had some very talented students that he worked with and even had a few of their works hanging in his home. His current favorite artist was a student named Travis. Daryl hadn't known him long, only since the beginning of the semester, but Travis had blown his mind with his exceptional talent. His work was creative, dark, and Daryl felt things when he saw it.

 

The teacher and student had become very close in the past few months after Daryl had orchestrated a private showing of Travis' work for a few alumni who had contributed greatly to the University's art department. They had spent quite a bit of time together choosing works and discussing the meaning behind Travis' art. The two had spent long hours at the campus gallery after closing and taken over the top level of the library working on ideas and brainstorming.

 

The friendship he and Travis had developed caused him to do something he had never done before; he gave a student his personal cell number. Not that he didn't want to be there for the students if they needed him, it's just that artists are a needy breed, and being one himself, he wasn't confident in his abilities to hold their hands. But Travis had never called him. Part of him wished the young man would, but the more realistic side of him knew it would be better if he didn't.

 

Daryl didn't discover that he was bisexual until his sophomore year at college. He had dated a couple girls in high school, well one date with each, and a girl his freshman year for a whole two months, but when he walked into his creative writing class in the spring of his second year, he was entranced by a beautiful young man with curly dark hair and breathtakingly beautiful blue eyes. That boy had been his first time with another man, and although the relationship only lasted the length of that semester, he learned more about himself with Rick than he had ever hoped to learn. Travis had caught his eye from the get go, and the young man's incredible talent had only drawn Daryl in further. He did not hope to have a relationship with him, but savored their friendship to the fullest extent.

 

The longer he sat on the couch, the hungrier he got. He picked up his phone and was about to order from his favorite Chinese take-out when his text notification dinged. It was Travis; his heart jumped a little in anticipation of what the man could want.

 

_I hope this isn't a bad time, but I need some input on a sketch I'm doing for a class. Would you mind taking a look at it and letting me know what you think?   Travis_

 

Of course, he needed help with a project, it's what Daryl was there for.

 

_Sure, meet me at the gallery first thing in the morning. I'll take a look at it. I'm sure it's amazing. Daryl_

 

Travis immediately responded.

 

_I kinda need you to look at it tonight. It's due tomorrow afternoon and I need time to do touch ups if they're needed. Please? Travis_

 

_Okay. Bring it to my house, I'll take a look. You like Chinese? Daryl_

 

_Yes, I do. Travis_

 

_I'm ordering if you want some. Might as well feed you if you're coming over. :) Daryl_

 

_Cool. Thanks, I'll be there in 20 minutes.  Travis_

 

Twenty minutes wasn't long enough to get his house in order. He called the Chinese place, then ran around picking up dirty clothes and throwing away beer bottles and empty candy bar wrappers. When the doorbell rang, Daryl was shoving old magazines into a side table drawer; he straightened his clothes and walked to the front door. Travis was wearing his trade mark long coat and colorful scarf and carrying his backpack on one shoulder. Conveniently enough, the Chinese delivery guy pulled into the drive way seconds after Travis arrived.

 

"Good timing," the young artist said, walking into Daryl's home. The older man instructed him to go to the living room and get comfortable while he paid for dinner. He carried two paper bags in and set them on the coffee table.

 

"Go into the kitchen and grab a couple plates; they're in the cabinet above the counter," Daryl ordered Travis. "The first drawer on the left has silverware if you want it, but I use chopsticks. There are a couple sets of those in there. I ordered drinks so you don't have to grab anything from the fridge." Travis set about gathering the items requested and when he returned, Daryl had the coffee table filled with takeout boxes.

 

"What did you order?" Travis asked as he laid the utensils next to the boxes. "Uh, a little bit of everything," Daryl replied. "Sweet and sour chicken, beef and broccoli, vegetable lo mein; I also got us some steamed dumplings, crab rangoon, and extra spring rolls."

 

"Do you really think the two of us can eat all this?" Travis asked as he filled his plate with a little bit of everything.

 

"Not really, I usually order more so I have something to eat the next day. I don't cook a lot." Travis could relate, and gave the man a smile as they sat on the couch together.

 

"So tell me about this sketch; what is the assignment?"

 

"I had to choose someone that I admire, someone that I respect and draw them in their home environment; the place that makes them who they are."

 

"Wow, that's a great assignment. Who did you pick," Daryl asked around a mouthful of lo mein. Travis didn't answer at first; he laid his plate on the table and opened his backpack, taking out his sketch book. He skimmed through it until he arrived at the page he was looking for and turned it around for Daryl to see.

 

The older man almost choked on his food when he saw the picture; it was him, standing in one of the gallery hallways surrounded by paintings and sculptures. "Travis, that's me."

 

"Yeah, I wanted you to see it before I turned it in. I didn't want you finding out from my professor and getting pissed off at me."

 

Daryl couldn't take his eyes off the sketch; Travis had impressed him once again. His attention to detail was astonishing, from the mole above his lip to the small tattoo on his neck. "Why me? And why would I be pissed off at you?"

 

"I know you're a very private person and you don't like a lot of attention, and I thought it might make you uncomfortable. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." The young artist sad shyly.

 

"I don't know what to say Travis; this is amazing. Of course I think all of your work is amazing. Is this what I really look like?"

 

"Yeah. I remember when I first met you; I went to check out the gallery and you were standing in the hallway, just like that. You looked like you were at home there. I'll never forget that."

 

"Do you think I could get a signed copy from the artist? No one has ever drawn me before." Daryl had taken the sketch book from the young man and was lost in the artist's vision of him.

 

"Of course, but I could draw one just for you if you'd like. I like sketching you. You're a great subject."

 

"Sure, okay. You want to do it now?" Daryl asked as he handed the book back to Travis.

 

"Yeah, if you don't mind. I can do it while we eat; I think that would make a great sketch." Travis took his sketch book back and turned to a fresh, blank page. "Just keep eating, I'll let you know when I'm done." Daryl did as he was asked and watched as Travis' nimble fingers guided his pencil across the page. Even his process impressed Daryl; his eyes were focused and engrossed in his action. Each time he would look up at his subject Travis would smile and Daryl thought it was the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time. He always felt content when he was around Travis and it warmed his heart that the young artist chose to sketch him for his project.

 

"Hey Travis, you never answered my first question. Why did you choose me to sketch for this?"

 

"Well, you're someone I admire and respect; you're one of the most talented artists I've ever known, and you've encouraged me more than anyone else ever has. You believe in me and my work. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me."

 

Daryl couldn't keep his eyes of the man as he spoke; the way his lips moved made Daryl imagine what they would look like wrapped around his pulsing cock. "No one's ever admired or respected me. I'm honored Travis, thank you."

 

"Everyone in the art department respects you. I can't believe you don't see that. All the professors and students come to you for advice. I still can't believe that I've gotten to spend as much time with you as I have. You've been my inspiration since I met you."

 

Daryl had never received such praise before and blushed from embarrassment. He put his box of lo mein on the table and leaned forward. "How have I inspired you Travis?"

 

The young artist laid his sketch book and pencil aside and looked directly into Daryl's ocean blue eyes. "Like I said, you're the perfect subject. Your eyes, your cheekbones, your body. They need to be drawn, painted, sculptured; I've been drawing you since the first time I saw you." Daryl felt the warmth in his chest grow hotter, and his mind moved to places it shouldn't be going. He unconsciously scooted closer to Travis and laid his palm flat on the other man's thigh.

 

"I think you're brilliant, and the most talented student I've known in a long time. You're beautiful, smart and funny, and I'd like to kiss you if you'll let me." Travis' eyes glistened in the harsh, artificial lamp light; he bit his lower lip and slowly nodded his head letting Daryl know that what the man wanted would be more than okay. Daryl licked his lips and pulled Travis closer, bringing their lips together softly.

 

The young man didn't need to be encouraged; he opened his mouth to Daryl without provocation, allowing the other man to slide his tongue inside and gently massage his own. Daryl moaned softly as he explored Travis' mouth, and his hands held him close, not ready to let go. Travis broke the kiss only when he desperately needed air.

 

The two men stared into each other's eyes not knowing what to do next, until Travis spoke. " I was so afraid that you wouldn't feel the same way I do. I thought you would send me home and never want to see me again."

 

Daryl caressed the man's cheek gently with his thumb. "Why would I send you away Travis? Seeing you and spending time with you has been the only thing I've had to look forward to in months. All those late nights at the gallery, witnessing the passion you have for your art; it filled me with passion. I have wanted to kiss your beautiful lips for months now."

 

Travis closed his eyes and leaned into Daryl's touch. "Would you kiss me again?" He asked meekly. This time the kiss was more passionate and needy. Travis' hands clung to Daryl as if he would cease to exist if the man was an inch away from him. Daryl's hands roamed the artist's body, and his lips moved to the sensitive spot under his ear. "Tell me what you want Travis; do you want to touch me?"

 

The thought made the artist's body thrum with excitement. "Y . . .y . . yes." He moaned into Daryl's ear, and the man's dick twitched when he heard the wantonness in his voice.

 

"Anything you want Travis. You can touch me anywhere; explore me." Daryl sat back on his knees and brought the other man up to eye level. Travis tentatively put his hands on Daryl's broad shoulders and squeezed them, feeling the hard muscle under his shirt. "Don't be afraid," Daryl whispered to him. "I want you to touch me; I want to feel your hands on my skin." Travis leaned in and took Daryl's lips, moving his hands down his strong biceps and arms. He began to unbutton the crisp white shirt the man was wearing and kissed down his chest with every loosened fastening.

 

Daryl held him in his arms and moaned with every kiss, lick, and touch Travis bestowed on him. Soon his shirt was crumpled on the floor and Travis' hands and mouth were a flurry of motion. The artist's hands found the waistband of Daryl’s dress pants and he hesitated. He looked up at Daryl, silently letting him know that he wasn't sure what to do anymore. "Have you ever been with a man before?" He asked.

 

"Once, but it wasn't a good experience." He replied, resting his head on Daryl's chest.

 

"Let's go to the bedroom, we can figure things out there." He took Travis' hand and led him to his bedroom. The lights were off, but moonlight shone through the shades on the window. The young artist noticed one of his paintings hanging on the wall opposite the large Queen bed and looked at the other man curiously. "That's mine," he said incredulously. "I didn't know you had it.

 

"Daryl came up behind Travis and took him in his arms. "I know I told you that all the pieces sold, and technically they did. I just forgot to tell you that I bought this one."

 

"You paid money for my painting? I would have given it to you for nothing if you had told me you wanted it."

 

Daryl smiled and whispered in the man's ear. "I was afraid that you would find out how I felt about you. Besides, you should be compensated for your talent; you worked so hard on that show, and I am so proud of you."

 

Daryl walked Travis to the edge of the bed and both men sat down. "I want this to be good for you; I want to make this the best night of your life. Tell me what you want. I'll fuck you if you want me to, but only if that's what you really want and are ready for that. We could take this slow and get to know each other's bodies first; just explore each other until you're comfortable. I don't want to scare you away and I will never hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to do. Do you believe me?"

 

"Yes, I believe you and I trust you. I think I'd like to go slow. It's been a long time, and I'm not sure what to do."

 

"Don't worry about a thing," Daryl said soothingly as he brushed the hair from Travis' beautiful face. "I'll take care of you. I'm going to go slow, so you can decide if you like what I'm doing. If I do anything you don't like or want, you have to let me know, promise?"

 

"Yes, I promise. I just want to be near you."

 

Daryl sighed and cupped the younger man’s face in his hands. "May I undress you?" Daryl asked.

 

"Yes," Travis answered. Daryl stood from the bed and pulled him up in front of him. He pulled the artist's shirt up and over his head; caressing his chest as he went. Travis' breath hitched when he felt Daryl's warm hands on his body. The older man latched on to his neck, and left a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses down his body. Daryl gave each nipple a lick and a flick with his tongue causing the young artist to go weak in the knees. When he reached his belt, Daryl slowly pulled it through the loops and palmed Travis' straining erection; the young artist gasped and nearly lost his balance. Daryl decided he needed to get the man prone as soon as possible. He pulled Travis' pants and boxers down and helped him step out of them, and then gently laid his new lover on their bed.

 

Daryl climbed up Travis' body and hovered over him, stroking his cheek with his thumb, and kissed him. He ran his hands over Travis' chest and stomach. "You're beautiful." He fervidly moved his lips over the artist's hot skin; licking and nibbling his way across the expanse of his chest, across his ribs and stomach. "I want to love you Travis; I'm going to make this good for you." Travis mewled softly as Daryl worked his way down his body to his hard, leaking cock. He looked up at the young artist for approval before he went any further and saw worry in his eyes. "Tell me Travis; do you want my mouth, or is that too much right now?" The embarrassed look on the man's face told him all he needed to know. "Alright, how about we just touch each other? Is that okay?"

 

"Yes," Travis replied and reached out for the other man to pull him back up his body and secured his mouth to Daryl's neck. He pulled the man down on top of him and ran his hands up and down his back, causing Daryl to moan and move his hips against the younger man. He broke away from Travis' embrace long enough to stand and remove his pants and boxers, then he lay next to his lover. Daryl took Travis' hand and placed it on the leaking head of his cock. Both men shivered at the contact and Daryl began to move the man's hand up and down slowly until he got into the rhythm. Daryl then took Travis' cock and did the same. The artist buried his face in Daryl's neck and whined, fucking into the other man's grasp. "Fuck this feels so good; so much better than before. I knew you'd know how to take care of me; I knew it would be good with you." He breathed the words onto the other man's flesh as if they were sacred.

 

Daryl was having a hard time controlling himself and tightened his grip on Travis. "You're so good Travis. You're making me feel so good; don't stop. Make me come." The young artist whimpered as he felt the pressure in his balls signifying his impending orgasm and increased his speed on Daryl's dick. They came together, spilling their seed across each other's bodies and gasping for air as their orgasms shook them to the core.

 

After laying in each other's arms and allowing their bodies to calm, Daryl spoke. "Are you okay Travis? That wasn't too much for you, was it?"

 

He looked up into Daryl's sweet face. "No, it was perfect. It felt so good. Thank you." Daryl smiled at him. "It was perfect, and you did so good. You've made me feel something I haven't in a long time. I hope that you feel it too." They kissed again, long and languid, until they fell asleep in each other's arms.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Travis celebrate their one month anniversary.

Part Two

 

  
When Daryl and Travis decided they would take it slow, they meant it. One month later and they had not gotten much further than they did that first night. The young artist had told Daryl about his previous experience and although Travis tried to forget and convince himself that he was okay and over it by now, being physically close to the older man had made him feel inadequate. Daryl had been very understanding and had comforted the artist when he related the experience. He was happy with what he had with Travis, and didn't want to rush him or make him feel pressured into anything, but he needed more. Travis was learning Daryl's body and had used his hand on Daryl, but wasn't confident enough to go any further than that. Daryl had been trying to build up his self-esteem and encourage him, but it seemed that the young artist was having a harder time with his issues than he thought.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Daryl wanted to celebrate their one-month anniversary and made reservations at a fancy Italian place near campus. Travis protested at first but Daryl insisted, telling him that it was a special place and that he wanted the young artist to know how special he was. Travis hadn't told his roommates about Daryl; they didn't know he was gay and he didn't want them to know he was in a relationship with a slightly older man, so he met Daryl at his house on the night of their anniversary. The first thing he saw as he walked through the door was the sketch of Daryl he had drawn that night. The man had framed it and hung it above the couch. Travis thought it was cute; Daryl was sitting cross legged shoving vegetable lo mein in his mouth; his eyes staring at the artist.

Travis was wearing the fanciest outfit he owned; a pair of black slacks, a sapphire blue dress shirt and a black tie. Daryl was dressed similarly, only his shirt was black. "God Travis, you look amazing," Daryl said as he welcomed the young man into his home. 

"Thank you," he said humbly. "You look pretty fucking amazing yourself." Daryl ran his thumb over Travis' soft lips and leaned in to kiss him. He tasted like orange cream sickle.

"Mmmmm," Daryl hummed as he broke the kiss. "You taste good."

Travis laughed. "It's orange cream sickle. I know you like it; you've always got some in your freezer."

"They're one of my favorite things, just like you. Give me one minute to grab my wallet and jacket and we can leave." He ran to the bedroom and returned seconds later. "I thought we could take the bike if you want."

"Hell yeah I want." Travis exclaimed. "Two well-dressed motherfuckers on a beautiful bike; I'll take that." Daryl laughed and kissed the man again before pushing him out the door.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************

The restaurant was crowded for a Tuesday night and Daryl was glad he had made reservations. "Dixon, party of two," he told the hostess and she led them to a small table in the back. 

"This place is amazing Daryl," Travis said as he looked around. Oil paintings and small sculptures adorned the entire restaurant. "You didn't have to bring me here. McDonald's drive thru would have been good enough for me."

"I know that. I wanted to give you something special and it's been a long time since I had someone I wanted to do this for. Just order whatever you want and drink the wine. If you like it, we can come here for every anniversary." Travis smiled, but tried not to think about the implications of that last statement; it would give him too much hope.

Daryl ordered a bottle of Pinot Grigio to share, chicken marsala for himself, and Travis kept it simple with spaghetti and meatballs. The conversation was light, mostly about Travis' classes and what was going on at the gallery. Daryl limited himself to two glasses of wine, while Travis downed four; he wasn't drunk, but started flirting openly with his boyfriend and Daryl loved it. When Travis began to slide his foot up and down his leg, Daryl decided it was time to go home. "Are you sober enough to hold on," Daryl asked as they walked to the bike.

"Of course I am," Travis replied with his arm around Daryl's waist. "I'll never let you go." Before they climbed on the bike, Daryl kissed Travis' soft lips.

"Be sure that you do beautiful; losing you would kill me," Daryl said and handed the man his helmet. Sure enough, Travis held on tighter than he ever had; almost squeezing the life out of the man in front of him. Daryl didn't mind though; he was just grateful that his lover had enough wits about him to do so. When they arrived at Daryl's house, the two men were all over each other, kissing and touching the moment Daryl locked the front door behind them, and they stumbled onto the couch a panting, moaning mess. Travis had untucked Daryl's shirt and was running his hands up his chest to his nipples. The older man quickly took off his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt to allow Travis better access. "Fuck, Travis. What has gotten into you? I'm not complaining baby; it feels so good."

"I want to give you what you give me Daryl; I'm ready." His hands ran down the other man's side and up his arms; he ran his fingers through Daryl's hair and gave him a grueling kiss. Daryl's own hands moved all over his lover's body, shedding him of his shirt. The two men moaned, panted, and ground against each other hungrily. When it became too much, Travis led Daryl into the bedroom and backed him up against the wall. "I want to taste you. I want to put my lips on you." He tugged at Daryl's belt and before long had the man fully naked. He dropped to his knees and took his lover's cock in his hand.

Daryl moaned loudly and his eyes fell back into his head when he felt Travis' taut grip. "Ahhh! Yes, Travis! Please!" he begged, and Travis obliged. Pressing his tongue into the slit, he pumped his hand at the base of Daryl's cock. He dipped his head slightly and took the head into his mouth and sucked. The older man gasped above him and struggled to find purchase against the wall. Travis smiled and hummed around the cock in his mouth causing Daryl to shiver. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! If you don’t stop I'm gonna come down your throat." Travis pulled off Daryl's cock with a sharp pop, but kept his hand moving. He looked up at his lover with lustful, wide eyes.

"You taste so good Daryl. You fill up my mouth just as good as you fill up my ass. I love the way you feel inside me." Daryl reached down and cupped Travis’ face with his palm, pulling him to his feet.

“Do you want to fuck me Travis?” 

“Yes,” the young artist whispered, and buried his face in Daryl’s neck. The older man led him by the hand and over to the bed.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked Travis.

"The only thing I'm more sure of is how much I love you." Travis replied. Daryl laid down as Travis took a bottle of lube and a condom from the side table drawer. He looked down at his lover; Daryl's sleek, muscular body sprawled out before him. He shed his pants and boxer briefs and climbed on the bed, kissing and licking his way up the man's leg. The younger man reached for the bottle of lube and poured some on his fingers. Leaning over Daryl's body, he kissed his chest as he circled the man's opening with his slick finger. Daryl moved beneath him as Travis pushed his finger inside, past the tight ring of muscle. "Does it feel good Daryl?"

"Fuck yes it feels good. Another finger Travis, please." The young artist did as he was asked and was feeling proud of himself; not only for having finally built up the courage to do this, but also for being able to do it well. He pumped two fingers in and out slowly while sucking and biting Daryl's nipples. Travis' fingers grazed something deep inside his lover and Daryl's back arched. "Ah Fuck! I'm ready baby. I need you inside me." Travis pulled his fingers out slowly, but before he could reach for the condom, Daryl grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him down. He kissed the young man roughly in an attempt to release some of the arousal that was consuming him. When he relinquished his hold on the man, Travis took the condom and tore it open. "Let me do it." Daryl asked and Travis handed it to him. The older man sat up, slowly covered his lovers cock, and lay back down with his legs spread wide. "Fuck me Travis. Fuck me hard; show me how you feel."

Travis wrapped Daryl's legs around his waist and pumped his dick a couple of times before lining himself up with the man's needy hole. He pushed inside carefully and both men gasped loudly when the tip of his cock passed through the tight ring of muscle; Daryl clutched the other man's broad shoulders for support. When he was fully sheathed inside his lover, Travis released the breath he had been holding. Daryl brushed his cheek with the back of his hand. "Don't be afraid; I want you to fuck the hell out of me. Show me how much you love me." And Travis did; he pulled out to the tip and slammed back in. The tightness was intoxicating and the smell of arousal made him lightheaded, but he continued to thrust in and out harder and faster every time. Daryl was writhing beneath him and a string of curses fell from his lips. Sweat was pouring from both of them and Travis licked the salty substance from Daryl's skin.

Daryl moaned and whined as Travis took him, the artist hitting his prostate with every thrust. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! So good baby; you fuck me so good. Touch me Travis, please." Travis took Daryl's cock in his hand and pumped furiously in time with his thrusts. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, but knew he had to make Daryl come before he did. 

"Are you close?" he asked, his rhythm never faltering.

"Yes, God! I'm gonna come Travis. Don't stop." Daryl cried and mumbled nonsense as he felt his orgasm bare down on him. "Fuuuck!" He screamed as he erupted in Travis' hand. The artist continued to move over Daryl's cock, and his thrusts wavered as he came hard inside the other man.

When they were spent Travis moved to pull out, but Daryl held him tight. "Not yet," he said, his voice now strained. "I like the way you feel inside me." He held Travis in his arms and they lay like that for what seemed like forever, until both men began to yawn. Daryl could still feel his lover inside him as they climbed under the sheets and he fell asleep with his head on Travis' chest.


End file.
